Brothers Abroad
by Galahad
Summary: Sorry for the delay. School sucks. That and preparing for what the fourth story needs to be. Hopefully you'll like how I developed Craig and resolved Spidey's and Nightwing's issues. Anyway review, and hopefully, enjoy. This part is done now.
1. Default Chapter

"So we are agreed."  
  
"We are."  
  
"And about our champions?"  
  
"We are in agreement."  
  
"Then let us go gather them."  
  
*****************************************************  
  
"The fools are going to do it."  
  
"They have little choice."  
  
"They are fools."  
  
"No they are desperate, and what they do is dangerous...for both sides. You would do well to remember that."  
  
"But things are going perfectly accordingly to plan."  
  
"Yes, but this is a very difficult, very dangerous portion of the plan for us. Our hopes, as well as those of our adversaries, rest with the champions that our adversaries select."  
  
"Is everything in preparation for the excursion?"  
  
"It is."  
  
"Shall we return to Access, to torture him to pass the time?"  
  
"Yes." 


	2. Part I

Nightwing stood behind his younger brother, Robin, as he explained to his younger friends his true identity. Ever since the events the few weeks previous and the apparent awakening of their mentor, the entire Batclan seemed to be pursuing a similar journey to determine their true self. For Robin that involved revealing his true, or at least other, identities to those he cared for most. Robin had informed Batman of his decision, and while Batman may have changed a little, he was still the Dark Knight and suspicious of everyone except for a select few.  
  
Batman had managed to get Robin to agree reveal himself to his friend from Young Justice first, as they were more likely to understand than say, Tim's family. Plus, they were more under the direct influence of Batman. In the superhero world, Batman was the boogey man that lived under your bed to the younger heroes; their friendship with Tim and the fear of the Bat should keep the secret.  
  
Batman also convinced Robin to take along his older brother for the trip. Batman was not one for sharing, but wanted some member of the Batclan to accompany his young squire. The only feasible choice was Dick. And Dick had to admit he was impressed with how Timmy was handling the situation, especially considering he was holding the rapt attention of Impulse. Speedsters' attentions were hard to hold to begin with, and Impulse had less of an attention span of any speedster in history. However, Tim's body posture, voice tenor, every aspect of his presentation commanded the respect and attention of his young comrades in every respect. He was a lot like Bruce in that regard.  
  
The thought of Bruce made Dick slightly frown. He was more than overjoyed to see the discernable change that had taken place in Bruce. While on the streets, Batman remained as focused and determined as ever, maybe even moreso with his self-realization. However, in the cave and around his family Bruce had softened ever so slightly, although he would never make the transformation to Ward Cleaver. He had even taken the first hesitant steps towards forming an actual relationship with Selina Kyle, the Catwoman. Bruce Wayne the CEO was taking steps out of the apparent fop- like haze that had "plagued him" and was taking serious steps towards making Wayne Corp an even more dominant player than it has been in the past, which was saying something. While he still had relapses, which were to be expected, Bruce was a changed man.  
  
However, that was not what caused Dick to frown. If anyone had asked him about it outright, Dick would have denied having a problem at all, and if anyone persisted, he would wave it off as complicated. Maybe Alfred could get to the truth of the matter, but not many others could. The problem was one of identity, one that plagued Tim and most of the Batclan since their experiences with the Demonhead, but Dick's problem was more complex.  
  
Dick had a very special status in the Dick was the approachable one, who gave advice to the younger members of the clan, the guy who other heroes could approach when they had an issue with Batman. He was the one person, with the possible exceptions of J'onn and Clark, who could get through to Batman with any element of consistent success. Dick was the heir apparent to Batman, and was the go-to-guy. He was the leader, the confidant, the friend. The man with the plan and the hero that everyone respected...even the Justice League.  
  
But first and foremost, at least in Dick's mind, he was the guy who was Batman's anchor. The one who kept his mentor, his father, from going over the edge. Between Alfred and himself, Dick believed that they were the ones that had kept Batman from going over the edge. But how long would he be needed in that role with Catwoman coming into the fold? Further, with the collapse of the Titans, the reformation of the Outsiders, and the death of Donna, it seemed that all of the anchors in his life were being torn asunder. He no longer felt like a leader, or a hero. He didn't have all of the confidence and plans as he was known for.  
  
He was just the guy who kept the Batman from going over the edge.  
  
If Selina became Bruce's anchor he would no longer be that guy.  
  
Who would he be then?  
  
"Soletmegethisstraightthen," asked Impulse. "Youaren'tAlvinDraper, butsomeguynamedTim? Butifyouaren'tAlvinthanwhmmmff..."  
  
"Whoa dude...why tell us this now," asked Superboy, forcefully placing his hand over the speedster's mouth looking at the Boy Wonder in surprise. "More importantly, does the Bat know?"  
  
Tim smiled and nodded. "Yes, I told him that I would be telling you. Although he wanted me to pass along a message...if you tell anyone, he said he would 'deal with the situation.' Use your imagination to determine what that means."  
  
Superboy suppressed a shudder, as Wondergirl prodded further, "but why tell us? Why now?"  
  
Robin nodded and then began again. "For a long time I tried to segment the life of Tim Drake and Robin as two separate individuals, but I have come to realize that it is the same guy. Trying to keep the two world separates does not help me be a better crime-fighter; it makes me worse. For the first time in my life I know what I want to be and how to get there. I am Tim Drake, Robin the Boy Wonder. Telling you all who I am will help you understand who I am, and will help be a better hero. Also, the dual identity thing can be exhausting when those who are really important to you can't know."  
  
Impulse began to speak but something made him pause. Noticing Impulse take a moment to do anything was a cause for alarm. Tapping Nightwing's shoulder to get his attention, Robin turned to Impulse. "What's wrong?"  
  
"There is something wrong," said Bart quietly, and more troublesome, slowly. "I don't know what it is, but something is wrong. There has a subtle change in the surrounding vibrations. Flash has been trying to teach me to be 'aware' of the vibrations around me, and to interpret them, but I just....don't ....know."  
  
The heroes tensed and formed a circle formation, preparing for whatever was about to come. Then a booming voice that shook them to the core spoke to them.  
  
"HEROES, YOU ARE NEEDED."  
  
Superboy cleared his throat and said, "I don't know who you are, but generally people who have voices like yours are looking for the Justice League. You can get ahold of them on our moon up there. Thanks for stopping by."  
  
The voice spoke from the darkness, from everywhere and nowhere:  
  
"YOU'LL DO."  
  
With that the five heroes disappeared. 


	3. Part II

Peter Parker, better known to you and me as the Amazing Spiderman, gazed out on the New York skyline, pondering the finer points of his life. You see, a little while back, this intrepid photographer was involved in a little debacle that changed his perspective on this little side gig he had as a superhero.  
  
See, seems like a bunch of bad guys got together and decided to take over the world, and they came really close. Seems that the only two heroes to escape were the Canadian mutant, chain cigar smoker, and runner up for Mr. Personality 1973, Wolverine, as well as your friendly neighborhood wall- crawler. That was, to be blunt, scary.  
  
The two heroes evaded capture for a while, but ran into a group of supervillains that would have destroyed them entirely if not for the fortunate arrival of a group of really gaudily clad heroes. And if you had seen Spiderman's costume that would be saying something. But we digress.  
  
These heroes were some of the most powerful beings he had ever seen, and Spiderman had met gods, aliens, and beings the size of planets. The things these heroes could do...well they boggled Spiderman's imagination, and he had seen them do it. A guy who could move faster than light. A green martian that could read minds. A guy who could create anything that his mind could conceive with a ring. A drop dead, gorgeous woman who could throw boulders like they were baseballs. A king of Atlantis. And a guy who took on Apocalypse one-on-one and held him to a dead heat. The last time Apocalypse came out, it took the majority of the superhero population of the world to put him down.  
  
But the hero that had the greatest influence on the web slinger was the scariest one of all. A walking shadow. A man who feared nothing, whose minds were among the best he knew, and who had to be the most intense guy he had ever met. The Batman. Spiderman had spent time with him, and he knew how powerful and scary he was. And the most impressive thing was that he was a man with no powers. He had drank no serum, had no genetic factor to amplify his strength, no bite from a radioactive bat. Yet, he was always in control, always knew what was going on, and those others with the amazing powers still listened to him.  
  
Meeting these people would be enough to create an impression, but what bothered Spiderman was what they did, or more precisely what decision they made. When devising their plan to liberate the heroes and the city from a collection of truly serious archvillains, they decided to put the leadership of the liberated heroes under one man.  
  
Spiderman.  
  
They picked Spiderman.  
  
That had been troubling him ever since. In his world, Spiderman, while respected, was never the commander. That was Captain America's or Xavier's or anybody else's job. Yet these tested and proven heroes, the most powerful he had ever seen, chose him.  
  
Why him?  
  
The question had plagued him over the days that had passed. Why him? Parker's life was a mess. He had screwed up over and over in his personal life, and sometimes he felt that his successes in the field were not the product of skill, but luck a lot of times. His love life was a joke, his professional career laughable. Heck, he could barely manage making grilled cheese a lot of times.  
  
The worse part of it all...they worst was how the public perception of him was changing. The papers obviously covered the event, and they had known that it was Spiderman that had led the hero army to help take back in New York. The result was overwhelming. People were starting to respect him more. Other heroes, when he saw them were more deferential. Some cheered him in the streets. Even J.J. had begun to back off.  
  
The whole situation had come to a head when he had a fight with a group of hoodlums. Common, petty thugs, they had really not posed any threat. But as he was leaving, the cops thanked him, THANKED HIM.  
  
Now don't think that Spiderman didn't appreciate the acclaim, but Spiderman wondered what else this could lead to. Could he be looked upon as a role model? A genuine representative of New York?  
  
Or worse. Could they actually ask him to lead in the future against some other threat?  
  
Spiderman based the roof waiting for his visitor to come. While the Justice League were some of the most powerful and awe-inspiring people the webslinger had come across, they did not have a monopoly on that. There were others who were just as proven and powerful as them. So Spiderman had decided to go to one of them for, help.  
  
"Spiderman."  
  
"Captain America, thank you so much for coming," said Spiderman quickly walking towards the Star-Spangled hero. "Did you have a hard time finding the place."  
  
"What a dumb question" thought Spiderman. "When people thought hero generally the first name on the list was Cap. This man, who after the New York hostage crisis, had given me his number 'just in case.' Me, the same guy who has a hard time getting a cab. Not that I have had to do that since I first strapped on spandex."  
  
"That's alright Spiderman," said Captain America in full regalia and with shield. "Is anything the matter? It sounded serious on the phone."  
  
"What," asked a pacing spider powered hero. "No, no problems. I am sorry if that's why you came out. Man, I knew I should have told you what this was about! Stupid..."  
  
The first name in American heroism smiled and placed his hand on the young hero's shoulder. Captain America that he knew what this was about, and he knew what was needed. In the Superhero community, he knew he was seen as something of a role model, not that he looked for such prestige. Spiderman was a fine young man, who did not falter in battle, but was definitely vulnerable to self-doubt before and after such bouts. Cap had been especially impressed with Spiderman's performance in the recent "unpleasantness." The wallcrawler had done a good job with the situation, and he had a natural talent for leadership and strategy. Spiderman would go far.  
  
"Calm down son," said Captain America with a grin that put the webbed superhero at ease. "Take a breath, and lets talk."  
  
Before Spiderman could draw breath, his famed Spidersense went off. "Cap, we're in trouble. My spidersense is going crazy."  
  
Captain America did not know exactly what "spidersense" was, he did take Spiderman seriously. Going into a crouch, shield arm cocked, Captain America prepared for anything. What he got was a voice.  
  
"HEROES...YOU ARE NEEDED."  
  
Spiderman looked around for the source of the sound. Trying to determine where it was coming from, he decided to ask a truly dumb question.  
  
"Who, us?"  
  
The pair began to shimmer, and then finally a voice replied.  
  
"YES, YOU."  
  
With that the pair was gone. 


	4. Part III

A room unlike anything they had ever encountered is where seven heroes found themselves. Five from one world, a collection of children and a man confused identity. Two men from another, a time tested hero and one who was just starting out. They stood...wait a minute, that's not necessarily true. This room was on a plane of existence that none of them had ever encountered before, which was saying something. When I say standing, they were doing the equivalent of that in this plane.  
  
The seven stood in front of two very powerful deities, or four deities, depending on how you count.  
  
"Greetings lady and gentlemen," started the Spectre staring at the collection of heroes. "Let's get to the business at hand shall we?"  
  
Nightwing "stepped" forward, all signs of the dilemma he had been dealing with quickly banished out of his mind. As the eldest representative from his planet, he took it upon himself to protect the kids, who he now considered his wards.  
  
"Whats the meaning of this Jordan," Nightwing's voice taking on the baritone timbre of his mentor, enough to make Spiderman jump in recognition.  
  
"Hello to you too Dick," said the Spectre. "I see you are following in your mentor's footsteps quite nicely."  
  
"Well, when I am yanked out of reality, I get a little cranky," growled Nightwing.  
  
"Spectre, are you sure these children are up to the job," spoke the Living Tribunal to his counterpart.  
  
"Hey, metal man," yelled Superboy. "I am not a child. I am the Kid, if you know what I mean. Whatever job you got, me and my friends will take care of, no problem. We have saved the world several times, so show a little respect."  
  
"Excuse me," spoke Captain America. "Now, I don't who you all are, although Tribunal, you and I have dealt with each other in the past. I know that you do not fool around or interfere unless its truly important. What's going on?"  
  
Tribunal glared at Superboy and then nodded at the elder hero. "You are right of course. But introductions are in order. First, let me introduce the heroes from our world. First...."  
  
"The gentleman who just spoke is Captain America, otherwise known as Steve Rogers," interrupted Nightwing. "Fought during World War II against the Nazis, he was cryogenically frozen in an ice flow. Awakened decades later, he fights for America again, and is generally considered to be his world's stereotypical hero, much like our Superman. He is powered by a "Superserum," which grants him above average strength and skills. Extremely skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Also, skilled with throwing his shield, made of an indestructible metal. Robin."  
  
Robin continued the litany. "The other one is Spiderman, otherwise known as Peter Parker. Bit by a radioactive spider in High School, he gained the comparative advantages of a spider, on a human-sized scaled. These powers include superstrength, textile acuity that allows him to stick to walls, and a 'spidersense' that warns him of danger."  
  
The Living Tribunal stared at the duo in amazement, but Spectre, a former teammate of their mentor only nodded. "Let me guess. When he crossed over and his assignment, Batman managed to get a copy of important records and files on these heroes and made you memorize them."  
  
Nightwing stared at the guardian and nodded. "After defeating Red Skull, Batman had access to the files of the heroes accumulated by those holding New York. He was able to copy them to a series of CDs, which he downloaded into the Batcave, creating dossiers."  
  
"So the protocols live I see," stated the Spectre.  
  
"Would have helped in your case, wouldn't it," shot back Nightwing.  
  
He-who-was-Hal-Jordan flinched at the not so subtle dig. "My turn for introductions. The two who interrupted are Nightwing and Robin respectively. Nightwing, the Batman's first squire, was Robin originally, before starting out on his own. The current Robin is the third incarnation. They are exceptionally skilled aerialists, detectives, and fighters. Nightwing is Dick Grayson, Robin, Tim Drake.  
  
"The boy in the black T-shirt with the red S insignia is Superboy, protégé of Superman. Has similar powers, including tactile telekinesis. He is known as Kon. The lady is Wondergirl, protégé of Wonder Woman. Again, has similar powers, only on a smaller lever. Finally, the boy with the big hair is Impulse, also known as Bart Allen, grandson of the second Flash, who was the uncle of the current Flash, who you met in the New York crisis."  
  
"As for what you are needed to do...well that takes a little explanation. Open your mind and prepare yourself, for it is time to re-explore creation."  
  
The heroes prepared, although Bart was definitely heard to say, "Awww..not again." 


	5. Part IV

The beginning of this story is told by Spectre and Living Tribunal.  
  
In the beginning there was nothing.then there was light.  
  
While you all know this beginning, you don't know what story this is. Before the mulit-verses and the brothers and multiple planes of existence, there was one universe. One series of solar systems.  
  
One Earth.  
  
On this Earth there arose a species that held within their essence the beginning of greatness. These seeds were creativity, the knowledge of good and evil, and free will. IN addition, these traits were joined by such possibilities as magic, the ability for mutation, and other comparable forces. The individuals in this original universe, these humans, would become so powerful, that a group of them could unwittingly destroy creation. This could not be permitted.  
  
For the purpose of our conversation, we shall call this original existence the Mother.  
  
In His infinite wisdom, the Essence created other existences into which the powers of the original universe could be poured. The powers becamed diluted, so that it was much more difficult for any one existence to be destroyed, but present none the less.  
  
You come from two of these existences... called the Brothers.  
  
However, these other existences, these Brothers, had a special relationship with the Mother, the original. First of all, the humans of the Mother, could "see" into the affairs of the inhabitants of the Brothers. Writers and other creators in the Mother, through what they considered to be an act of creation, actually "peer" into these other existences, and pass the stories onto others. Also, whenever the Earth in the Mother existence was in dire trouble or facing some traumatic event, the Brother existences would be compelled to deal with it as well. For example, the Mother existence has had World Wars, with similar players, such as Hitler and Roosevelt.  
  
The Mother and all Brother universes also share something else in common...heaven and hell. The same heaven that is in our existences serve the Mother as well. While not everyone in Heaven and Hell know of this, the higher ranked beings do. Which brings us to the crux of our problem.  
  
The boundaries of existences are constructed of very strong materials. While there are places of crossover where beings of necessary strength and rank can meet, such as this "room," it is very difficult to penetrate the walls to go to the other side. However, it can be done. And the boundaries, can theoretically, be destroyed. If this were to occur in one set of existences, it is believed all boundaries would dissolve, including between those between the brothers and the Mother. Between Heaven and Hell. The humans of the Mother would be flooded with power denied them from the beginning, and would have, comparatively, the combined powers of Dr. Strange, Superman, Thor, and the Phantom Stranger overnight. They would have no idea on how to use these powers, and with the added confusion of characters of "fiction" popping out from nowhere, chaos would reign.  
  
This scenario very much plays to the benefit of the hordes of hell. With the boundaries down, and the human existences in chaos, they could mount their attach on Heaven, and could have a good chance of winning.  
  
Here is what we know.  
  
The one known as Access has been missing for quite a while. As you may or may not know, he is made up with shards of both of your existences. If some member or members of the underworld have him, and could find a way to turn his nature against the boundaries, it would be a good first means of destroying the boundaries. But it wouldn't be enough.  
  
As you know, there has been a severe amount of accidents and traumatic events in your existences, even for you. New York was captured and held in one, in another a family was captured. Long standing teams have been dissolved, heroes killed. All of this causes strain on your existences. While the effects of some of the most severe of these have been minimized due to our intervention by trading heroes to help, our actions have contributed to the disintegration of our boundaries.  
  
We won't lie. We are quite worried. So worried that we are going to attempt something that has never been done.  
  
As I mentioned before, the people of the Mother existence know of our existences. They also have the capacity for great power, if exposed to certain forces. We are going to send out a team, all of you, to go to the existence and to find a champion to bring back. He or she will be asked to determine what is going on, and with your help, to marshal the forces of two existences to go against the forces of hell, free Access, and then prevent them from attempting something like this again.  
  
This will not be an easy mission for a variety of reasons. You will be the first to go through, and we do not know exactly what will happen to you. We do know you will not have your powers once you enter. Your superserum will not work, nor will tactile telekinesis. There is no speed force, nor spidersense in the Mother's realm. Even the effectiveness of the non- powered Nightwing and Robin will be decreased. We cannot see into the Mother existence with any clarity, but you must be prepared, and expect anything.  
  
You have 72 hours once we send you forth to find champion, convince him or her to come back, and then return. If you can't find one, we must go this alone.  
  
The heroes sat in silence, pondering the words. They had all heard and reheard the story of their "beginning." Some had even been to the beginning of time. But this was a little much for them. They didn't understand it all, but they did understand one thing. Their world...no, ALL worlds were in trouble. And they needed their help. Their decision was obvious.  
  
Captain America stepped forward, "I will go. I know that it will be difficult, but I will go because I have to." The others nodded in agreement, but Nightwing stepped forward.  
  
"Why us though," asked Nightwing. "There are others who could do this, such as the Justice League, their X-Men. Why a collection of heroes who had never worked together before? I know that the heroes here are all very fine and accomplished," Nightwing said with a deferential nod to Captain America and Spiderman, "but there is something to be said for teamwork and working with others before."  
  
The Living Tribunal nodded and said, "You speak truth, and we did consider it. However, we thought it was best if we had delegations from both existences go forward, as both have a stake. We needed seven members, as the number had certain powers which will expedite your transfer to the Mother existence. Further, some heroes were precluded due to their past which precludes them from being able to travel to the mother existence whole. For example, your mentor had his back broken, which he eventually recovered from. There is no way that he would be able to go to the Mother existence, as he would have been unable to recover from such an injury there. Thus, if we sent him, he could return his paraplegic state. Others were precluded for similar reasons: Iron Man, Superman, Wonder Woman, Wolverine. Out of those available who could make the jump, you were the best suited and most likely to succeed."  
  
Nightwing considered that and nodded. "Well if we are going forward, and if there are no powers, would I be right to assume that they do not have superheroes and villains." Seeing Spectre and Tribunal nod, the Bludhaven protector continued, "well we are going to have to change then, cause we would kind of stand out in our costumes. Plus, if you could provided with cash or credit cards that could be used in that world, that would help to. We won't have the time to get a job, and I won't steal."  
  
There was a hint of a smile on Spectre's face as he moved his hand in a mystical pass that transformed to costumes into appropriate clothes. "You will find an appropriate amount of funds in your pockets, as well as credit cards to aid you in gaining lodging. Are you ready?"  
  
The seven tentatively nodded, as the Tribunal and Spectre grew in size until the filled the room. Glasping hands, the two deities grunted in exertion as light grew around the group of heroes pushing them towards an existence none had dared to travel to. 


	6. Part V

The heroes stood in an alley, in what appeared to be a metropolitan area. On Captain America's lead, the group walked out attempting to look around casually, to determine just what sort of world they were in.  
  
"Alright everybody, in this world, since we are out of costume, we are going to have to by our real names. Just a reminder, I am Steve Rodgers. First things first. Let's figure out where we are and get some lodging."  
  
Dick scanned the area and saw what he wanted. "Mr. Rodgers, sir, there is a newspaper stand across the street. That would be a sufficient place to determine, where and when we are, and what type of world we live in."  
  
Captain America peered down the street and seeing a hotel nodded. "Alright...Peter and, Dick is it, I need you to go in there and find out as much about this world as possible. Get a newspaper and some magazine, anything that can help us understand the world we are in now. Cassie, Bart, Tim and Kon? You come with me and we'll get lodging. We'll meet up in ten minutes, go to our rooms, and figure out our next step from there."  
  
Nodding, the two parties broke off. While not in costume, the eyes of Nightwing were continually moving, noting everything. As they strode into the store, the two heroes nodded politely to the clerk and began to peruse the papers. The paper they were pushing was the St. Louis Post Dispatch, so they were obviously in St. Louis. Picking up a map of the city, Dick focused on the news periodicals while Parker was stranded in the technology periodical aisle.  
  
Dick, on a quick scan noted that the world bore a generally similarity to his: the existence of the US as the most dominant superpower, there was a UN, etc. However, he noted that the paper was devoid of supervillain or acts of crime perpetrated by one man. He noticed that the cause of problems on this world were acts of terrorism by militant groups but was not too surprised. Noticing the lack of a Metropolis or Gotham paper, which would have been a must for any newsstand back on his world, Dick surmised that Metropolis and Gotham did not exist at all here, which made him strangely sad.  
  
Walking over to Spiderman dressed as your friendly neighborhood Peter Parker, Nightwing ran through his mental dossier provided by Batman a few weeks earlier. Bitten by a radioactive spider, a science geek turned superhero. Intelligent and had a natural talent for strategic and deductive thinking. Deductive thinking refined through scientific study, strategic not promoted yet. Also had a penchant for puns, which made Dick smile a little. "We will see who is the pun master here," Dick muttered under his breath.  
  
"What have you found out Peter," Dick whispered as he strode up.  
  
"Well, they are not a backward people, but are about two steps behind my world technologically. Which I guess makes sense, since they haven't been exposed to as much technology as my world has," said Parker nodding at Wired. "Actually when you consider the environment they have developed in, they have done pretty well. No alien races to steal from, no time traveling to get new ideas. Its not as high tech as we may be used to, but they aren't still living in caves either."  
  
"Do you got anything that we need to bring back," asked Dick.  
  
"No," said Peter. "It's pretty standard. We should be able to get along here just fine, as long as nobody invades or anything. There is no standard of technology here that we won't be able to overcome."  
  
The two walked towards the counter, when a series of colors caught their attention. Turning to look, their eyes widened.  
  
"Whoa...." whispered Dick.  
  
"This is so cool," agreed Peter.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Rodgers sat young Bart Allen on the bed and was trying to calm him down. Bart was having a small problem with his lack of speed.  
  
"This sucks!" said Bart as he tried to speak in speedster's tongue and was unable to do so. "This is SO slow. How do you people stand this."  
  
"Now there is no need for profanity son. We'll be fine," said Captain America, frantically trying to figure out what to say. While Steve Rodgers had dealt with a lot in his time, children were not one of them. Never having had any of his own, and his limited contact with them except in the most traumatic of circumstances, Rodgers always felt that he never could say the right thing when it came to kids.  
  
Now he was trying to deal with formerly superpowered kid, now deprived of their powers, feeling seriously disadvantaged in this, their greatest test.  
  
"Mr. Rodgers, sir," Tim said tentatively. "Would you mind if I had a moment with my team? We have some matters to discuss."  
  
Captain America looked at the boy and nodded. Rodgers had recognized that in this boy, this "Robin," there was the leadership for this group of individuals. Captain America knew that of all the individuals on this "trip," he would be the best one to get their heads in the game.  
  
As Rodgers left, Tim Drake looked into the eyes of all of his compatriots. Kon was slumped in a chair, while Cassie sat on the other double across from Bart. All three heroes looked to their leaders, with the same thought in their heads...surely Tim, the non-superpowered one, could tell them what to do.  
  
After making eye contact with all of his teammates, Tim began. "I understand you all may be a little shell-shocked. After having your powers for so long, it must be tough to be without them. But we can't dwell on what we don't have...we have to focus on the job ahead.  
  
"During all of our superhero career, we have wanted to prove ourselves to our mentor and protégés, to demonstrate that we are capable of following in their footsteps. Now is our chance. Its true we won't be at the top of our game, but when our mentors proved themselves, they weren't at the top of theirs. Superman isn't a hero just because what he can do when he is stronger than all the rest, but because of what he does when he is overmatched. Same with Wonder Woman and Flash. Same with Batman.  
  
"We need to prepare ourselves, cause the stakes have never been higher. This is not just for our existence, but for everything that has ever existed or ever will exist. We will not freeze up. We will stand tall, and stand proud. We will find this person, and we will get him or her to come back with us. We will demonstrate to those around us, and to ourselves, that we are worthy of the mantels we carry. We will shout defiance to night and we will defeat all comers. Not cause we are heroes, but because we are human. And there is no finer title, or higher calling than that."  
  
The trio of young heroes sat in stunned silence in the presence of their leader, and slowly began to nod their heads. All their lives, they had tried to live up to the names and standards set by their mentors, and had failed. None of them felt equal to the task of meeting the standard set. Now, thanks to Robin, they saw they had a chance now to prove to themselves what they were capable of.  
  
Before they could reply, a flustered Dick Grayson burst into the room and interrupted. "Next door. Now. We got problems to deal with." 


	7. Part VI

The problem with this particular section of the four-part tale is what to do. I know what this part needs to do, and where I ultimately want to end up, but I do not know HOW to do it. For a month and a half I have struggled with the issue. Should villains cross over to do battle? No, that would be too convenient, and I want to do something A LITTLE unconventional. Terrorists? No, too political, and too cliché at this juncture. Then, two days ago, I got it, with a little prodding from a new fan. So here we go....hope it works  
  
************************************************************************  
  
A myriad of colored pages lay strewn across the two doubles in Dick and Peter's room. Young Justice and Captain America flipped through the pages, reading up on the latest exploits of their comrades. Rodgers flipped through the latest copy of the Avengers, and then looked up at the young men that had brought these books to his attention. "Well....this complicates things."  
  
Dick Grayson nodded, as Peter Parker elaborated; "Yes....we knew we were known in this world, but not the context. Now we know: We are characters from popular kids stories. If we tell anyone who we are, we'll be considered nuts. And if we tell them why we are here, then they'll call the men in the white coats. If they wear white coats here. Shoot, we don't truly know what we are dealing with fully yet. We know the basics, but we do not know the people. That's a problem."  
  
Rodgers paused deep in thought. He agreed with the boys assessment. Rodgers had always represented an American way of life, in HIS world. What would that idea mean here? From the evidence and reports brought back by Nightwing and Spiderman, while these people had been tested, they had not had the exposure to the fantastic and extraordinary that individuals, gifted or otherwise, had experienced in the "Brother" existences. How could they choose a champion from this world, when no person here had experience with the types of extraordinary circumstances that they would be asked to deal with in the upcoming struggle? With the stakes so high they could not afford to choose poorly.  
  
Captain America looked around at the assembled heroes, and sighed. "Alright, there needs to be some means to get around this. What do we do, where do we go from here? Specifically, what type of individual are we looking for?"  
  
The heroes paused and considered the question. Nightwing began. "To get the basics down, he or she should in be good physical condition, as we don't know the physical strain will be placed on the person by entering our world. She also has got to be smart and easy to adapt to different situations. In her case, a REALLY different situation."  
  
Rodgers nodded. That's what he expected the protégé of a detective to say. It was Robin, to Captain America's surprise, that continued. "Our subject should have an understanding of both our worlds...existences...whatever. These "comic books" may be a disadvantage here, but they may not be a problem for the real issue. I am assuming that this person who we get is supposed to either lead us or at least work with us. Back home, anyone we could choose, with all due respect, couldn't do the job as they would not know half the players. A person from this world, who reads the books would know. Also, they might have the best chance to figure out who is doing all this, since they know all the bad guys too, I would think."  
  
Wonder Girl tentatively raised a hand and asked, "where are we going to find somebody like this?"  
  
Dick Grayson smiled and said, "Got it covered. When we were picking up the comic books, I got one of these fliers. Its called a 'ComCon'....."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The heroes filed out, to read their respective books and find all of the errors that they are sure were contained therein, when Rodgers pulled Peter Parker aside and waited for the other heroes to leave the room.  
  
"Whats up Cap?"  
  
"We never got a chance to have our discussion from earlier, and I thought now would be a good time."  
  
"Oh...that. It can wait. I mean, with all of this stuff happening..."  
  
"Peter, I think that now is the best time to talk about your particular problem," Rodgers interrupted. "If we have this type of cataclysmic event, I think that you are going to be playing a big part...you already have. And if you are going to be this involved, I need you, we need you at your best. Now, why didn't you speak up during the meeting. You knew what Robin and Nightwing were going to say before they said it...you were aware of what we needed. As an elder member you should have spoken up. Why did you defer?"  
  
Parker squirmed as if he were in front of the principal. "I didn't know what they were going to say..."  
  
Captain America waved his hand. "Peter I have been reading people since before World War II. I know you are lying."  
  
Parker began to pace. "Fine...you are right, I did know. But why should I have to talk because I am older. I am mean, I am not exactly one of those types of heroes. I am not A-list. You are. The Avengers and the X-Men are. Batman, the guy who trained Nightwing and Robin is, along with the Justice League. I have seen all of you guys in action, and I know when I am outclassed. I chase pickpockets and pursesnatchers, with the occasional supervillain and team up when things get really hairy and they need everyone available. But c'mon. A leader? That's not me."  
  
"What about the Battle of New York?" Rodgers asked, referring to the battle that Spiderman had become 'general' of the superhero forces while the JLA battled a collection of supervillains for the control of the city.  
  
"What about it?" countered Peter. "I didn't really do anything. The Justice League came up with the plan, I just kind of directed traffic during 'the battle.' And look I was fighting with. A five year old with a BB gun could have beat those guys with the collected forces of superheroes at his back."  
  
Rodgers shook his head in amusement. The boy did have a way with words. "Son, listen to me. I don't know if it is modesty or what, but you did more than a '5 year old' is capable of . I was there...you are capable of being 'A-list.' I have considered you 'A-list' for a long time. More than your extraordinary abilities, its your mind and heart that sets you apart. You have an innate sense of right and wrong, you have a good mind for solving problems. And people listen to you...more than you know. Those people did not follow you because somebody told us too...some of those people would have not listened to you at all if the only reason was because the Justice League told us too. Wolverine comes to mind. However, they followed your orders cause they believed in you. And because you have proven yourself to them.  
  
"I know that you have never gotten the respect from the public that you deserved, and that now you are. I know that people outside of our circle are starting to recognize you for what you are. I meant what I said. You will be needed for what is coming. Not as a footsoldier. Not as merely a web crawler. We need Peter Parker, Spiderman. As a leader."  
  
Parker stared back at the elder heroes face and nodded, as his words bounced off his numbed body. Rodgers sighed. The boy had listened, but he hadn't heard. Captain America just hoped that the spider would get the message....soon.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Nightwing sat staring at the three teens with a little disinterest. The whole experience up to this point had caused him to activate one of the first Bat-techniques he learned from Bruce. The one that above all else, made all other superheroes view the Bat as a cold-hearted. More of a trademark than the utility belts, car, or deductive skills.  
  
Compartmentalization. The ability to segregate personal from the professional. To keep the emotions from overriding the logical and achieving what needed to be done. However, with the discussion of the "optimal subject," the emotions that Dick Grayson was feeling was bleeding into the logical, a cardinal sin. But Grayson had never been as good at Bruce in this particular field...the hazard of allowing himself to feel. Most of the time it was a strength. Not today though. Not on this mission.  
  
Lost in thought, Nightwing returned to the world of the living, as it was, by the sound of Batman's name being repeated over and over to a musical campy. Grayson raised his eyes to see three superheroes struggling to contain their laughter, and one very aghast Robin. Turning to the set, Nightwing saw the first real horror of this existence.  
  
Batman, the Television Series.  
  
The car. The dialogue. (Come on, how unoriginal were these guys. Everything Robin said was Holy ________. Seriously.) The villains. (How easy would it have been if Joker had been anything like the guy on TV?) The car. The costumes. Oh, heaven protect us, the costumes. As the episode concluded, Nightwing slowly walked to the set, and turned it off. He was joined by Robin, as he stared at the younger heroes, giving them the best Batglare in his arsenal. The heroes, faces that were colored by holding in mirth, began to sober. Finally Nightwing spoke.  
  
"If anyone mentions this...thing to anyone back home....you will have to deal with Robin, myself, and Batman. If any of us hear ANYTHING about this, we will BREAK you. Understand?"  
  
The heroes nodded, as Drake and Grayson stalked out of the room.  
  
After the Titans were assured that the BatClan was gone, they burst into laughter. 


	8. Part VII

The opinions expressed in this chapter do not necessarily represent the opinion of the author. That will be all.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Rodgers, otherwise known as Captain America, felt oddly out of place and slightly disasppointed. So far, no one looked the part of savior that the heroes had described in their hotel room. There were a lot of young kids, a lot of, well, larger gentlemen, and a lot of people dressed in a variety of costumes of their favorite, "characters" Captain America would guess would be the term. They needed someone who was knowledgable, not someone who would just think it was "so cool" that they were around the heroes from the universes. Rodgers paused in front of a Captain America booth and decided why not?  
  
Team X (for Generation X. This world had such cool names for things) was patrolling the western section of what was called the "Edward Jones Dome." It was large, expansive, and where the local professional football team played. However, any ounce of athletic capability seemed to have left with them. Parker and Grayson were easily in ten times better shape than anyone around them. Nightwing was still blushing furiously after the last booth.  
  
"They have awards named after your hindparts," chuckled Parker as they walked by an Avengers table. "These people have actual discussions about your body. For hours at a time. Talk about an ego boost."  
  
"Dude, shut up," said a thoroughly embarrassed Grayson. It was bad enough that this talk went on behind his back at home, but now, in two existences. Again, the question about what his identity came to the forefront of his mind. Grayson had hoped that by walking around in this place he might get a better understanding of what he was. Where better than a place full of people that knew everything about you to get a better understanding of what you were? Was Dick just some bizarro Chippendale with a mask, without any other substance?  
  
Peter held Dick in front of a Spiderman table. While he had stopped at several tables dedicated to his comic book (man it weird hearing THAT), this one was dedicated to his, movie? "I have a movie," whispered Spiderman. He and Dick began to investigate.  
  
The Titans were amused. Most of them anyway. Superboy was not quite amused. He was having an animated discussion with a fan.  
  
"SUPERBOY IS NOT JUST A WALKING PHALLIC SYMBOL! HE IS DEEP, HE HAS LAYERS" exclaimed an exasperated clone.  
  
"Are you kidding me," replied a 25 year old accountant. "All he does is fly around and hit on chicks. The only time he does anything of value is when Superman or somebody else forces him to. He has NO social filter. No, that's not right. Superboy has a social filter, just rarely uses it. Impulse has no social filter. Not much of anything really."  
  
Bart quirked his head. "Excuse me?"  
  
The group of twenty and thirty somethings rolled their eyes. "C'mon," said the 35-year-old beautician. "Bart Allen is a joke. Talk about a one-dimensional character. You would think that being the grandson of one of the greatest characters of all time, the writers could do something more with his character than what they did."  
  
"Face it," said the accountant. "The only thing that made Young Justice worth reading is Robin....admittedly a Robin is hard to screw up, but come on. Is there anybody else on that book that would justify shelling out cash for this book."  
  
Three pairs of eyes slowly moved towards Tim Drake. Fortunately, Drake had learned to weather the BatGlare, but he was still not feeling too comfortable. Drake began to speak in defense of his friends.  
  
Craig Hendrickson patrolled the ComCon as a man apart. Or at least that is what he liked to think. See, comics were a guilty pleasure he endulged in, emphasis on the guilty. He was a college student for the love of god, at a prestigious school. Just ask the ranking board. But anyway, what was he doing reading comic books at his age? He should be looking for a job right now.  
  
However, Craig was here, and if you asked him, he deserved it. Life was a little rough for Mr. Hendrickson. The future was collapsing upon him, and it was getting a little intense. No girlfriend, no job, and a term paper due in a week. He needed to relax. And despite his embarrassment about his, well, interest in comics, there were few things that could better achieve that goal of total relaxation than comics. With a ComCon in town, what better way to go.  
  
He paused at an X-Men table, nodding at the man dressed up as Cyclops. This is one of the reasons that Craig was a little embarrassed by his interest. He was not somebody who dressed up like comic book characters, or memorized issue numbers, or could tell you how many floor were in Titan Tower, and what was on each floor. He was interested in the stories, and knew the characters in both DC and Marvel books, but that was the extent of it. Compared to the populace, he was a comic dork, but in the Comic World he was a peasant, one who was aware but didn't have the knowledge to be one of the greats.  
  
Like we said, a man apart.  
  
What appealed to Craig was the nature of the books. You knew who was right (generally), who knew who was evil (in theory), yet the writers all found a way to play enough new crises to make it interesting. Besides, where else could you find guys that could up heave mountains to defeat mammoth invaders.  
  
And yes, Craig knew that the real heroes were the firefighters and policemen and the everyday guys that went out and did their jobs and kept the world going, blah blah blah. But how many knew Ju Jitsu or had claws shoot out of their hands?  
  
But Craig promised himself he would never be one of those obsessed guys. For example. Look at that group. Arguing about the characteristic merits of the Young Justice book. It was entertaining, do we really have to be concerned about whether Impulse was living up to Barry Allen's legacy? The kids arguing for Young Justice kind of look like them too. The spit curl and piercing on the cocky one, the wild hair on the impatient one....kind of unnerving actually. Weirdos probably grouped themselves that way. Wannabes.  
  
Craig turned a corner, and noticed a guy in a trenchcoat, hand tucked inside the folds. Outstanding. Another Highlander fan. Suddenly, the man yanked out a machine gun (M-5....thanks Counterstrike) and shot a few rounds in the air, joined by several other retorts around the stadium. Craig dropped down and scampered to the cover of the Young Justice table.  
  
"They are robbing a ComCon....are you kidding me? Dumb ass St. Louis criminals," muttered Craig.  
  
"But we gotta do something Tim," beseeched the blonde girl to the dark haired boy.  
  
"Look, we aren't....prepared to do anything," replied the boy, "so just keep down." The dark haired boy looked like he was about to continue when the "Highlander" fan that Craig saw approached the girl from behind and put his gun to her head.  
  
"I think I just found me a hostage." 


	9. Part VIII

Had a bad day again.  
  
These words flashed through Craig's head as he stared down the barrel of a gun. Along with ARE YOU KIDDING ME! And a COMCON! Only with Craig's luck could he run into a robbery at a Comcon, which he had come to by the way, for relaxation. It would have been a lot better if he hadn't been next to the chattiest group of hostages EVER.  
  
"We gotta do something Tim," murmered the blond chick. "We can't just sit here."  
  
"We can and we will," murmered the dark haired kid that seemed to be in charge. "We can't do anything right now. Remember what we are here for."  
  
"Come on Timmy," murmered the other dark haired kid with the dumbest looking spit curl in his face. "This is what we do man."  
  
"Not here, or now," replied the kid named Tim. "We aren't in a position to..."  
  
"Will you kids shut up already" yelled one of the guys with a gun. "Stand up, and gimme what you got. You too," the man said gesturing to Craig. Craig stood up slowly and begin to paw through his pockets. They wanted his school id and ten bucks, that was fine with him.  
  
"You three, hurry it up," growled the gunman. Craig turned and followed the kids line of sight to three adults. Two near a Spiderman table, and one near a Marvel table, who kept glancing meaningfully at a mock up of a Captain America shield. The different groups nodded, and Craig definitely murmured an obscenity.  
  
Suddenly the wild haired kid and the spit curl freaked hit the gunman in front of Craig high and low, dragging him to the ground. Tim and the blond haired chick jumped up on a table and pounced on two of the gunman's buddies who were coming to help. Meanwhile, the older guy picked up that shield he was eyeing and through it expertly at one guy's head and hit him perfectly. Than oddly, the old guy clutched his arm as if he was in immense pain.  
  
Meanwhile the other pair that the kids had looked at had taken on two of the other gunmen. It looked like the good guys had the upperhand. To Craig's count that meant five were accounted for....but hadn't he noticed six? Scanning the room, he noticed one guy with a gun, taking aim at the blond chick, looking for an opening.  
  
"Goddamn fool," Craig whispered to himself as he leapt up onto the table and onto the last gunman, knocking the man to the floor and the gun out of his hand. Knowing he didn't have a lot of time, and that surprise was his only advantage, Craig quickly jabbed the man in the face, and then headbutted him.  
  
"Whoah....well that was a dumb idea," Craig said to himself. He looked down at his foeman, to make sure he was out. The guy's face was a bloody mess, and his nose looked broken, but he was out and breathing. Craig stood up and scanned the room. Most everybody was down still scared of the now knocked out would be crooks. Craig wiped the blood from his head, and checked himself for any injuries, when he saw the idiots that got him into the mess with the other hero wannabes. They looked strangely injured, and panicked. They ran/hobbled towards the doors.  
  
Craig thought. He considered. He pondered. He deliberated. And then against all of his better judgment and impulses, decided to follow. He pulled up a guy in a Spawn shirt and said, "Call the cops and tie these guys up or something. Sit on 'em. I dunno. Just call the cops." Craig proceeded to run out, calling himself all sorts of fool.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
"What the hell happened back there," asked Peter Parker clutching his stomach, staggering toward the hotel. "One minute its like I am back home, and the next, I am attempting to regurgitate Aunt May's Meatloaf from 8th grade."  
  
Dick pulled Impulse and Superboy along and quirked his head. "I think you got it Peter.... 'it was like we were back home.' I think that we are not allowed to do what we just did. We tried to be what we were back home, using skills we gained from back home, like Mr. Rodgers and that shield trick, and we are getting punished for it now."  
  
"What," growled Rodgers through gritted teeth as he clutched his arms. "Why didn't our guides warn us."  
  
"I think they were out of their depth sir," said Tim as he grunted towards the hotel, which rose up a block away. "They knew some things, but not the whole story. Plus, I don't think they have ever sent anyone from our existence to here, so they had no clue as to how it would work; just a lot of theory. They had to be really desperate."  
  
"So what do we do now," asked a limping Impulse.  
  
"We get back to the hotel," replied Rodgers. "We rest up, hope that some of the symptoms clear up, and go from there."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Craig stood outside of the group's hotel, watching the assembly walk in. Now or never, it was time to see who these people really were.  
  
"Stupid curiousity," muttered Craig as he walked towards the entrance. 


	10. Part IX

"How are they?" inquired Steven Rodgers. His arm was in a sling, and he winced ever so slightly when he moved. His arm was getting better...but not quickly.  
  
"They are not doing so hot," replied Dick Grayson. "They have fevers, Kon's being the highest, and they are pale and clammy. I would say they have a severe case of the flu, if not for the circumstances. I would get them some antibiotics or something, but I don't want to risk it. I don't know how the drugs will interact with their systems. But they do not seem to be in immediate danger. But they can't move, which is a problem." Grayson didn't add that he wasn't especially fond of the idea of moving either. While he and his protégé were not as bad off as the other Titans, they were not exactly a hundred percent either. Grayson theorized that it was due to their relative lack of powers "back home." While they were uncomfortable, they were shielded a little.  
  
Parker was in the middle of the two extremes...worse off than the Batclan and Captain America, but better off than the Titans. He spoke up, "so where does that leave us in our search? We have a little under 24 hours to find this guy."  
  
Rodgers nodded, and said, "We have no choice but to stay here through the night. We are in no condition to do anything. Hopefully most of the symptoms will fade and we will be able to continue our search. But we need to begin to face the possibility that we will be unsuccessful in our search. We must begin to formulate a plan B for our problem."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Craig Hendrickson stepped away from the door. Not a lot of information, more of a confirmation of what he knew: they were weird and they were sick. Two excellent reasons to get the hell out of there. However, Craig still had a nagging feeling that he should stick around, but his gut had gotten him into enough trouble for the day. Fleeing the scene of a crime, even though he did not commit it, was enough trouble for one day. Craig turned to leave, when the door suddenly opened and two of the guys from the ComCon, who kinda looked like brothers were facing him.  
  
Craig turned to walk away hurriedly while the eldest called after him, "Hey you....stop!" Craig began to run, when he was tackled from behind. Hoisted up by the brothers, he was hog marched back in the room and forcibly sat down in a chair. Craig scanned the room as the two brothers caught their breath. Three of the kids Craig was standing near during the robbery were on the bed, seemingly out of it. The old guy was in a sling and the final member with the brown hair looked pretty out of it too. Craig was pretty confident that he could make a break for it now, but again his instincts told him not to. Instead he settled back in the chair, but remained prepared to run.  
  
The older man in the sling began. "I recognize you from the Comic Convention son. What were you doing outside of our door?"  
  
Craig stared back at the man, and cleared his throat. "I am sorry sir. I saw you rush out and I wanted....well I don't know what I wanted. But I followed you back. I guess I was curious. You guys ran out afterwards, when there was no real reason to do so. You guys were heroes. So I guess I followed you to see what the deal was."  
  
"Why didn't you stay," asked the brown haired guy. He was sweating profusely as he stared at Craig. "You didn't do to bad yourself. Took out that last gunman, and saved our friends. Why didn't you stick around?"  
  
Craig thought about that. Why didn't he stick around? "It just never occurred to me. It was more important to figure out what you were doing, in particular why you acted as you did. Besides, I didn't do it for attention...I just did what needed to be done. Which brings me back to my original questions. Who are you and whats the matter with you?"  
  
The elder heroes and Robin considered this. Guy was in good shape, didn't panic in a crisis, looked out for others, and followed his instincts to their doorstop. Things were starting to add up, and certain things were clicking. Maybe...  
  
Dick Grayson asked, "Before we answer your questions, a few more things. First off, whats your name, cause we can't just not call you anything. Also, I assume that since you were at the ComCon you know a little about comics. Would you say that you are well-versed in both....DC and Marvel?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess. I mean I am not uber-nerd, and can't tell you what the thread count is of the Infinity Gauntlet, or what Doomsday's favorite dish is, but I do alright. And as for my name...are you nuts? You all just tackled me and forced me in here, and before that you took on several armed men. I think the less you know about me, the better off I am. Now tell me who the hell you are and what you want, or else I walk. It doesn't really look like any of you are in a position to stop me, if I really put up an effort."  
  
The heroes looked at each other and nodded. He would do. The hard part was over. The exceedingly difficult part came next.  
  
Rodgers stepped forward. "This is going to sound ridiculous, fantastic even, but it is true. I know of no other way to tell you this, or explain it to you. We are a collection of heroes. I am Steven Rodgers, known as Captain America to you. Those two gentlemen are Tim Drake and Dick Grayson, and Peter Parker is the man sitting in the chair opposite you. The three laying down are Kon-El, Bart Allen, and Cassandra Sandmark. I assume you know who they all are?" Craig nodded, and Captain America continued. "We were sent here, by higher powers, the Spectre and the Living Tribunal, to bring back a champion to our plane of existence to fight an evil that has surfaced their, by leading the heroes of two world to do battle for everything, in every sense of the term. We believe, based on what you have told us, that you are the champion we are supposed to bring back."  
  
The heroes paused and Craig looked at them. They looked back. Finally Craig began to speak. "Gentlemen, this is the part of the conversation when I retort with something witty and glib, and blow you off as crazy. You try to convince me, and ultimately I walk home, shaking my head at all the time I have wasted. However, I have had a long day, and I am too tired to be witty. I am scratched, and I am bruised. So I am going to cut to the chase. You all, are nuts. I gotta go. Good luck with returning to reality."  
  
Craig turned to leave, but Dick Grayson grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "I don't think you understand. This isn't just about our worlds...its about yours too."  
  
"I understand that you think its about my world," retorted Craig, "and that I am an idiot for following my 'instincts' here in the first place. Its episodes like this that demonstrate why I am going to be an accountant. Goodbye." Dick looked pained as Craig walked out the door.  
  
"We can't just let him go," said Tim as he moved towards the door. Parker stopped the Boy Wonder, and nodded at Nightwing.  
  
"Slick move," commented Spiderman staring at the Former Boy Wonder. "If I hadn't been patrolling New York for so long, I would have never seen it."  
  
"So we got our champion picked out," said Rodgers. "Now we got 24 hours to convince him to come with us."  
  
"But how," asked Robin. "We don't know where he is? Who he is?"  
  
"Yeah we do," replied Nightwing, holding up his acquired find. "It hurt like hell to get it, but it was worth it. Craig Hendrickson, student at St. Louis University. Shouldn't be too hard to track him down....tomorrow is a school day and I don't think our boy misses much class.  
  
"Lets get to bed...tomorrow is going to be a busy day." 


	11. Part X

Craig walked out of his Advanced Accounting course more than a little bored. Craig liked the actual practice of accounting, but learning about the stuff was like watching paint dry. During the professor's thrilling explanation of business segments and how to account for the poison pill strategy, Hendrickson could not help but think about the previous day at the ComCon and the hotel. Craig knew for a fact that they guys were nuts. They were not from some alternate world where comic books characters existed. They could not be. But something kept gnawing at him about the heroic lunatics. Something that he could not fathom. Something he could not quite get a handle on.  
  
As he strolled through campus to get to his apartment, he failed to notice the blond haired man reading a paper on a bench, or the sickly yet familiar looking kids playing Frisbee. Indeed, Craig didn't notice until too late the three men who surrounded him and forcibly pushed him into a van waiting near at the corner. As the door slid shut, the kids and the blond haired man, known as the Titans and Captain America jogged to the van, entered the vehicle and drove off.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE" yelled a flustered Craig as he struggled to get loose. The Titans and Spiderman, in executing their plan, were using their body weight to hold Craig down, instead of relying on any fighting skills to minimize the pain that could come from the exertion. While it was working, the effects of their mystery disease were starting to come through. Dick Grayson knew he had to calm down this possible champion, and quickly.  
  
"Calm down Craig, you are among friends," Nightwing said in his most calming tone.  
  
"Friends who are restraining me after taking me from campus against my will," replied Craig. " 'Friend' is not the term that comes to mind. 'Psycho wack-job' does. 'Lunatic with too much time on his/her hand' does."  
  
"Look, we need to talk to you," said Rogers from the front seat. "I promise if you listen to what we have to say, and you don't buy it, or don't want to investigate it further, we'll let you go."  
  
"What?!?" yelled the Titans. "Are you nuts?"  
  
"We are not going to force Craig to do anything he doesn't want to do," said Rogers sternly. "Period. He won't be able to do what we need him to do if we tried. If we can not convince him, then we will go it alone."  
  
Craig looked at his captors and regarded Rogers words. His rational mind told him to make a run for it. The kids were tiring and looking ill again, and the others would not be able to stop him, if he really tried to make a break for it again.  
  
But once again his instinct told him not to run. Despite his actions, Rogers still appeared to be a trustworthy figure. Besides, its not like Craig had anything better to do. Why not hear these goons out?  
  
"Alright," said Craig. "I know a coffee place nearby. Its quiet, it public, and its available. You got an hour."  
  
Craig sat patiently at Kaldi's, listening through the "heroes" stories. While it was compelling and interesting, he didn't buy it for a minute.  
  
"So you can offer me no proof to collaborate your story, other than you word, because you lose all your powers when you are over here, right?" asked Craig. "So why should I believe you? And more importantly, for argument's sake, why me?"  
  
Dick Grayson leaned back in his chair,cradling his latter. There was the problem. The group had already overcome a lot of hurdles in finding Craig, and getting him to listen was a miracle. But how to convince him to come with? Especially with the few hours Nightwing figured they had left.  
  
Rogers stared at Craig and began, "well with regards to your last question, your qualification fit this situation. You are physically fit and could handle any strains on your physiology that cross over could throw at you....at least we think. You know your stuff about our world, and your instincts are good. You proved you can handle yourself in a crisis, and don't panic. We have thrown a lot at you, but you have not broken down. Your resilency is amazing, considering your lack of exposure to situations like this."  
  
Craig, feeling upsurd but justified, responded, "that may be true, but I am no world saving hero. I am just some guy. I am not who you need."  
  
Craig stared at Rogers and Parker knew that while everything Captain America said was true, it was not going to be enough to convince otherworlder. "Look, everything Cap said is true, but the most important trait you got is that you are a good person. At the ComCon you risked life and limb to save others that you did not know. I know the idea of a world saver can be intimidating...." Parker's voice trailed off as he looked over at Rogers thoughtfully. Captain America stared back with a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, not noticing Nightwing paying very close attention.  
  
Parker continued; "I know that they label of world saver can be intimidating. Any label can be: leader, friend, son, husband. But labels mean nothing if you aren't a good man. Everything else that you do, everything else that people think you are, is just other versions of the same basic thing. You are a good man. You will do well."  
  
Craig began to think about Parker's words when his eyes began to widen at what he saw outside.  
  
"Lady and gentlemen," said Craig rising from his chair, "I don't know about all that other stuff, but I might believe you about where you come from if you can explain that."  
  
Nightwing, Spiderman, Captain America, and the Titans quickly turned to see what Craig was looking at.  
  
"Well, haven't seen something like that since the Crisis," remarked Nightwing, a slight tremor in his voice.  
  
"Our time is about up I think," Captain America said nodding at the incoming red storm clouds. "This is not something that I think is something normal for this place." The Titans grabbed Craig and dragged him from the coffee shop, looking for an alley. People had stopped in the streets to stare at the clouds, now the color of blood.  
  
Robin pulled Dick aside and asked, "Do you think this is some of that cancer that Spectre was talking about? Do you think the boundaries are falling?"  
  
"I dunno Tim," replied Dick, regaining his normal Nightwing composure. "But whatever it is, we'll have to be ready for it."  
  
Craig stared at the sky, his rational mind in chaos, but his instinct moved him with his former captors. The red clouds rolled over St. Louis as thunder rumbled overhead. Craig felt the back of his hair stand on end and he heard his voice yell "Watch OUT!" Tossing the Titans aside in the nick of time, Craig took the full brunt of a purple lightening bolt.  
  
It was in this strike that Craig, well, the best term for it would be was saw. A flood of images bombarded Craig's brain, as well as knowledge of what these images meant and emotion, but he only retained a conscious memory of a few of them.  
  
He saw a man in a trench coat in England, cigarette dangling out of his mouth, head cocked in his direction. A bearded man in a cloak, in a dark room, surrounded by books of magic. A vampire with a soul, a ghost, and a girl who was called Slayer. Three sisters in San Francisco. Four gunslingers making their way to a Dark Tower. Four turtles and a rat. A grizzled man, with a whip, a leather coat, and a fedora. A boy with a lightening shaped scar, surrounded by a red-headed family, a frizzy haired girl, and a white haired old man. A wizened boy standing next to a boy without any color holding aloft a burning blue sword. All of these, and more bombarded the head of Craig Hendrickson, to the point where he thought his head would burst. However, it was the last image that almost drove the boy mad. It was of two demons standing next to an obviously bruised and battered man in red and blue, blood trickling out his mouth. The two demons seemed to be studying Craig, and he felt sick.  
  
But throughout all of this he felt the presence of another, washing over him like oil. It was dark, foreboding, and inviting. Craig felt as if he wanted to surrender himself over to it, his mind almost giving itself over. In a world without reason, surely if he were to give himself over to it. Then, Craig saw a burst of pure white light, and the slick feeling of that other presence was gone.  
  
Craig was back on the streets of St. Louis, staring up at the Red skies, surrounded by several very worried superheroes.  
  
"Maybe he got superspeed," suggested Bart Allen. "That's what happened to Grandpa and Wally when they got hit with lightening."  
  
"Shut up stupid," snapped Kon-El. "They don't have that here, remember? He is probably really hurt."  
  
Craig shook his head and hoarsely whispered, "No...no I am alright....mostly."  
  
Parker and Grayson helped Hendrickson up to his feet. Craig looked over at Captain America and spoke to him, a sense of purpose and will surging through him. "I'll come with you. I see what is going on now, or at least part of it. That bolt did something to me, allowed me to see. I don't know what I saw or what it means, but I know I can't tell you here. Can you get us back?"  
  
Captain America considered the question, and shrugged. "I do not know. Generally when the work is done, they bring us back, but here, I don't know."  
  
Craig nodded and said, "then maybe I can do it." Closing his eyes, Hendrickson slowly murmured to himself. Slowly, but surely the group faded away. 


	12. Epilogue

"How did you do that," asked the Tribunal and Spectre at once. The seven heroes were back in "the room" at the intersection of the two brothers with the representative from the Mother, Craig Hendrickson.  
  
"How I got your attention is unimportant," replied Craig, strangely confident. "What is important is what happened back home, what I know now, what I don't know, and where we go from here."  
  
The collected powers held their comments as Craig gathered his thoughts and began: "When I got struck by that lightening bolt, I saw and experienced a lot of things. I am not going to claim that I know what half, or even most of it means, but I do have some ideas. I saw a lot, and I think I saw into several of the other brothers. I do not think that had any significance but to demonstrate what I am fighting for. I also saw some people in the brothers which you all represent, which I think are meant to play an important part in what is to come.  
  
"Let me get to the point. The demons who have Access, the sentient being that can travel between your two existences freely, are Mephistopholes and Neron. Mephistopholes has been dealing primarily with Captain America's world, Neron with the Titan's world. They were torturing Access, for purposes I assume to be to further weaken the boundaries between all of the Brother Existences to get to mine. However, they are not the mastermind of this plan.  
  
"In my vision....trance...whatever, I felt the presence of a much darker, much more powerful force that commands these two demons. I do not know what it is, or from what existence it hails, or even if it has made an appearance before, anywhere. Maybe it is Satan. I dunno. But it is powerful, mean, and pissed.  
  
"I almost succumbed to that force, but I was aided by some other being. Some counter-balance to our Adversary. What that force is I do not know. But we aren't going to be alone in this.  
  
"But our enemies have been preparing for this for a LONG time. Before our time. Before Captain America, Superman, or any of that. I don't know how long they have been getting ready for this, but I do know that we can't underestimate how ready they are for us. All of your moves have been anticipated. Even my presence is not going to be a surprise. Any powers I may gain will be expected. We have to believe...we have to think that anything that has happened up to this point is exactly what they wanted to happen."  
  
"So what does that mean," stated an unusually somber Impulse. "That we can't do anything."  
  
"No...I didn't say that," said Craig. "We have several advantages. We know they are coming, we know where they are coming, and we do have some unknowns. Not everything has been determined. Earth is the lynchpin of the attack. Both Earth's. I think we can safely assume that all attacks and excursions have been limited to your Earth's and will continue to do so."  
  
"Why can we assume that," asked Nightwing.  
  
"Cause when you involve elements like hypertime and alternate worlds," replied Craig, "things get complicated. Why involve these large forces, that have a tendency to fight back, when you can start small and create a reality cancer that will eventually wipe it out anyway? No.....its like your mentor says, 'Simple plans' are best, and this is as simple of a plan as they can get for what they are trying to accomplish."  
  
"Fair enough," replied Spectre, staring intently at the otherworlder. "I concede that the attacks will come through the two Earth's. What advantages do we have?"  
  
"They are several. One, we have this other force, that helped me. While we don't know what it is or what are Adversary is exactly, I have faith that they can at least counterbalance. If they didn't, you would have been crushed long ago. Also, you have me. While they know what I can do, they don't know what I will do. That's an advantage. They have to be cautious of me and that will cause them to delay. Also, that other force....informed me that they won't be able to track me as they can track you. Therefore I more of a free ranging player. Finally this battle is not going to be decided by godlike forces. But by men, heroes, and mortals. I expect for hell, to quite literally, to break loose, and its going to be up to us and everyone else to stem the flood. I don't know how it is going to happen, but I expect the battle to be brutal, intense, and easy. We will define our own destinies in this matter, and the fate everything will ride on everyone's shoulders."  
  
All of the member's nodded slowly. This is what they were comfortable with. While they had dealt with the bizarre and the extreme very well, they were returning to what they knew best....busting some heads to make existence safe for existence.  
  
"Alright" exclaimed Kon. "Let's brawl! I'll show those ComCon sissies that I am deep when kick some demonic tail."  
  
"Not so fast," said Craig. "If we are going to have any hope we need to do two things. Get information and get organized. The information, well, I'll deal with that. But the organization is going to be up to you all." Craig stared at everyone for a moment and then nodded.  
  
"Dick, talk to your girlfriend, and round up everybody who ever wore a mask for justice. I don't care if they are taking a vacation, beat up, or retired. We need all hands on deck. Reform old teams, whatever it takes. Don't limit yourself to Earth either. Call up the GL Corp, Adam Rann, New Genesis, anyone who you guys have ever helped out in the great beyond. Call in all the markers and the favors. We are going to have to have them cover and provide early warning for any attack coming from space.  
  
"Robin, you get to Batman. Get him to round up all the thinkers.....start coming up for anything and everything. They have anything on the drawing board, get a rush on it. We need every weapon, idea, and plan handy. Also, take the information that Batman gained from his crossover and get it to appropriate teams and individuals. If there needs to be a crossworld team-up I want them to know who to trust. Finally, have the Titans help you devise similar files for every hero and team you can think for your existence and get it to Spectre.  
  
"Captain America, Spiderman, I need you to do what your counterparts are doing in your world. Mobilize all the heroes, call in your off planet favors, and prepare for whatever may come. I need you to do this on a technological and mystical levels. The Living Tribunal will provide you the files that Robin and his team will compile.  
  
"Spectre mobilize the legions of heaven and the Quintessence. Make it clear that they are not to act unless I tell them to, no matter what. Again, we want to keep as few of the powers out of this as possible to maintain the boundaries. Keep an ear...eye...whatever out for Robin, and when he calls you with his information, get it to the Living Tribunal. Tribunal, mobilize the heavy hitters of your existence, and give the same instruction as I gave Spectre; they are not to enter unless I ask them to."  
  
"Hey," exclaimed Kon-El. "While we are doing all this, what are you going to do."  
  
"What I gotta do," replied Craig. "What that is in particular, I have no clue. I am making this s*^t up as I go. In two days, I want representatives from both worlds in the Watchtower and Avenger's mansion. For Nightwing's world, I need the Batclan, the Justice League, and Dr. Fate, as well as any others you see fit. For Captain's world, I am going to need Wolverine, the Avengers, Spiderman, and Dr. Strange.  
  
"Get it done." With that, Craig disappeared.  
  
The group sat in silence for a moment letting the past few moments sink in. "Yeah....we got the right guy," remarked Peter Parker.  
  
"I think he's read one too many Batman Comics," replied Tim Drake.  
  
"Enough," said Steve Rogers. "The boy is right. War is coming. Let's 'get it done.'" 


End file.
